


Trailing Hands

by Chanlyeya



Category: The Letter (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Parabella, This is the most sinful thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12534836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chanlyeya/pseuds/Chanlyeya
Summary: If she could, she would wrap her legs around him to encourage him. Alas, they were no more responsive tonight than any other day, so she found other ways to do so.Ashbella's first time from my Parabella AU, for a prompt on tumblr.





	Trailing Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I am too ace for this shit. Also, drawing a blank for a title, so take a jumble of letters that look like they hold meaning, but don't.
> 
> Hello guys! Here's my first ever attempt at sin, so, forgive me if it's no good :;(∩´﹏`∩);:
> 
> I don't really have much to say, other than the fact that this was the hardest thing I've ever written. One of the first things I remember being taught in regards to writing was to not write out any intimate scenes but to imply it. Now, that might've been because I was 15 and they doubted I had any experience ~~jokes on you, I _still_ don't have any experience~~ , but it's something that stuck with me, so I had to overcome my desire to just _stop_ several times :P
> 
> I did a lot of research on this okay? I know way more about paraplegic sex than I will ever need :P

“Are you sure?” He asked.

He rested his forehead against hers, though he didn't meet her eye. Instead, he watched her hands, following them as they played with the buttons on his shirt, fingering them delicately. She didn't undo them, despite how easy it would be. She wanted this, had prepared for it all day, but he kept asking, and she was beginning to wonder if it were for his sake rather than hers. 

She looked up, lifting his head with hers with the movement until their noses brushed. His eyes refused to settle on a single point, shifting focus from her lips to her nose to her hair. She let go of his shirt and used her hands to cup his face until finally, he returned her gaze. Desire mixed with the blue of his eyes, but the uncertainty drowned it.

She smiled. “We don't have to,” she said. Sure, she felt silly having spent a whole day on this, dragging Hannah with her shopping and regulating her bathroom breaks so she wouldn't have to worry about any accidents, but that was of little consequence. If Ash wasn't ready, he wasn’t ready, and she wasn't going to pressure him into anything. “I mean if you don't want to. I don't mind waiting.”

Ash flushed as he looked away. He shut his eyes and burrowed his face into her hands as though trying to hide. “I want to,” he said, bringing his hands to grasp hers, keeping them from moving. “Of course I want to; I've wanted to for years. I just...wanna make sure you want to.”

Isabella moved their hands away from his face and kissed his palms. “Ash,” she said. “I spent all day preparing myself for this; I guarantee you, I want this. Besides, if I asked you to stop, would you?”

He looked almost offended that she asked. “Of course—”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She didn't give him time to answer, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a kiss. Nothing forceful—just a meeting of the mouths, easy to break should he wish to. He didn't, and after a moment's hesitation, returned it, bringing their bodies as close together as her chair would allow. He massaged her lips with his and slipped his tongue in when she let him, teasing her own until she stopped hiding in her mouth. He lifted her off the chair with one hand, distracting her from the feel her bare skin separating from the leather with the other, running his fingers over her spine, bringing a shiver with it.

He maneuvers her legs around his waist, holding them in place awkwardly behind him. She broke their kiss, moving to kiss along his jaw and make it easier to breathe as he carried them up the stairs, but he would have none of it and followed her mouth with his until they reconnected and sucked her tongue back in. She shook her head ever so slightly and felt his lips quirk in response.

He practically dropped on her the bed once they reached the mezzanine loft. She had no time to gather her bearings for he followed immediately after, resuming their kiss as he leaned over and boxed her in. She imagined the feel of his hand sliding up her leg and shivered when she felt it reach her stomach. She wrapped her arms briefly around his neck to pull him closer, before letting them fall and work on unbuttoning his shirt. His hand rose to help her as her fingers fumbled, but she smacked it away. With how often they had her buttoning and unbuttoning things in the early months of her rehab, you would think she wouldn't have had an issue, but her fingers just didn’t seem to want to work as they should. Buttons were her favourite usually; velcro was reminiscent of nails on chalkboards and peeling skin off hot leather, and zippers got stuck all too easily. She liked buttons, but if they were going to be little shites then—

As though aware of her wandering thoughts, Ash flicked her on the forehead. He looked a bit nervous as he pulled back, and that hesitance and fear had returned. Oh crap! Did he think she was doing that think of England thing? Damnit, and she only just convinced him she wanted this!

“Buttons!” She said. He looked at her strangely, and if she weren't already flushed from exertion, she would’ve flowed from embarrassment. “I was thinking about buttons.”

“What?” He asked.

The incredulity in his eyes made her cover her own. “They weren’t cooperating, and I was thinking I was going to have to revise my love for them if they...didn’t?”

There was a pause, a moment of silence, and then the bed began to shake, ever so slightly at first, crescendoing until his laughter broke the silence. She uncovered her eyes to glare at him and watched as he leaned back, took off his shirt—screw the buttons—and threw it behind him.

“Don’t,” he said, once the laughs died, though the smile remained. “Just think of me.”

He made it easy. He leaned back in to worship her mouth, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. With the shirt gone and his chest laid bare, she could see the expanse of muscle, and it took her breath away. She had seen it before, many times, as he laid out and tried not to twitch as she drew him, but that had always been with an analytical eye. She knew, objectively, that he was beautiful—it was why she asked him to model—but every time he bore himself before her, she looked on detached, clinical. Now, without a canvas or sketch pad in sight, she could take it in subjectively, and the view would have her weak at the knees if she could feel them.

She ran her fingers down his chest, marvelling at the feel of strength beneath them, as he watched on with a look of syrupy affection. He was scarred, always had been. Mostly small lines of white, inconsequential and easy to overlook, but there was one that ran deep on his left pectoral that cut through his nipple. She had asked once about it, but he avoided the question, and she saw no reason to bring it up again, as he had always been self-conscious about it. Catching his eye to ask for permission silently, he nodded, trembling as she trailed her fingers ever so lightly over it. His eyes lidded at the contact, and the sight filled her with a boldness she didn’t know she had, as she followed her fingers’ path with her tongue.

He shuddered at the contact, and hissed in her ear, dropping his head to lay it on her shoulder. She stopped, worried she may have hurt him, but he assured her otherwise with the attention he was paying her neck, kissing right below her ear where neck meets jaw. The touch tickled, and she was unable to hold back a snort, though she refrained from smacking him away. Something she probably should’ve done. At the sound of her laughs, she sensed Ash’s smirk as he pinned her arms above her head before he continued his assault, exaggerating every movement until she was in tears. With both arms and legs out of commission, she could do little to try to get him off but squirm beneath him. It was unconventional, but it worked, as soon enough, Ash pulled away with a curse.

“Please tell me you came prepared.”

Isabella took a moment to catch her breath before answering, enjoying his discomfort. His tomfoolery had knocked her top askew, and she noticed his hyper-focus on her exposed breast. “What do you mean?”

Ash made a noise halfway caught between a whine and a growl as he adjusted himself. “ _ C’mon _ Belle.”

“Downstairs, back of my chair.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I can’t come up here on my own and, does it  _ look _ like I’m hiding anything?”

He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and released it. “Fine.” He shucked off his jeans, mumbling about how he couldn’t move around in them. “I’ll be back.”

She watched as he made his way back down the stairs, holding back a laugh at his stilted walk. He was going slow, to catch his runaway thoughts most like. He didn’t like  _ not _ being in control, especially over his own body, and he was going to take his time all over again when he returned. While she would enjoy taking it slow with him, she knew him well enough to know his doubts were probably resurfacing. She loved him, and while there were few things Isabella would change, she wished he would stop putting her on some sort of pedestal and accept that she found him more than worthy of her.

She went to adjust her strap when she changed her mind. The outfit Hannah bought her was cute; the babydoll especially was something she wouldn’t mind wearing on a day to day basis...if it’s translucency didn’t make its purpose apparent. As lovely as the outfit was—and it was  _ really _ nice if the expression on Ash’s face upon seeing her in it had anything to say about it—it was her advice she was most thankful for. Advice she decided to follow, carefully extracting the lace and silk from her body and throwing it as far out of the way as she could. She liked it and didn’t want it to tear accidentally, and as such may have taken longer than she needed to, as Ash had already returned before she had a chance to reach for her underwear. She caught his eye as she untwisted herself; his pupils blown wide enough she could see them from here.

She sent him a smirk and his whole body flushed, and he closed the distance between them, pushing her back down on the bed as he reconnected their mouths. She wrapped her arms around him to encourage his passion, but he stopped upon the contact and pulled back.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Apparently, even the sight of her half naked wasn’t enough to stop his self-doubts. She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ash.”

He didn’t seem to hear. “Because we can still stop now. I can, uh, I can take care of this on my own—”

“Do you want to? Stop, I mean?”

“ _ I _ don’t but—”

She reached for him, and his words were cut with a hitched breath. “Then stop thinking,” she said. “Think only of me.”

He laughed. “It took me years to figure out how to pay attention to other things while thinking of you since you were always on my mind. I don’t know if I can so easily turn that off.”

She shook her head. Sometimes, Ash took his corniness to extremes, but she loved that about him. He knew it too, if the smile she felt against her skin was any indication, as he kissed along her neck until he reached her mouth once more. She opened her mouth for him, and he was all too willing to sink himself into her, lapping at the insides of her mouth as if determined not to leave an inch untouched. She hummed her appreciation.

Her mind was beginning to quiet when he stopped once more. She groaned as he pulled back.

“I wanna try something,” he said. His voice took on that note she had come to recognize he used whenever he wanted something but wasn’t sure she would give him her blessing. She lifted a brow in question, and he responded by slowly trailing his hand down her stomach. The question was clear in his eyes and the hesitance in his trailing hand, but he voiced it anyway: “Can I?”

She had known him long enough to know she could tell him yes until she was blue in the face, and he would still have his doubts. Ash had never been good with words, so he gave them little importance, preferring to express himself with actions. She had already tried convincing him with words three times now, yet it would only last for so long. She decided instead to take a page out of his book, drew him into a kiss as she guided his hand further south, and slipped it beneath her last article of clothing.

His touch drove her mad, and she ached to guide him further, but even now her hips refused to budge. He explored on his own, swallowing her noises as his fingers wandered. They stumbled upon a bundle of nerves that left her breathless and they focused on it. He massaged her, slowly, deliberately, until her mind blanked, quieting her moan with his lips, before releasing her mouth and letting her catch her breath. They stayed that way for a time, before he pulled his hand out, gave her a chaste kiss and rolled off of her. 

She was too blissed to hear the sound of his impact but quickly felt his absence. Unable to find him with her eyes, she summoned her strength to raise herself with her elbows and found him lying on the ground, looking as disoriented as she felt.

“Did you,” she took a breath, “fall off the bed?”

He flushed, and she laughed until she coughed, having not yet caught her breath. He looked almost perturbed at her amusement. She crawled over to the edge of the bed, and offered him a hand to help him up, useless though it may be. She failed to catch the mischief in his eyes until it was too late, and rather than join her on the bed, she joined him on the floor, landing on top of him uncomfortably.

She laughed, pulling herself up until they were nose to nose. “You know,” she said, “I’m never going to forget that?”

“Oh really?” he said. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Think you can make me forget you falling off the bed? Unlikely.”

He smirked. "We'll see about that."

* * *

To be fair, he made her forget for a few hours.

**Author's Note:**

> My original fill was going to be: They do the do. Ash falls off bed. Isabella laughs til he pulls her down. They finish on the floor.
> 
> Instead, you get this.
> 
> Also, Isabella has minimal feeling in her legs. She can feel things if they put enough pressure on it. However, my research has indicated that even if she had _no_ feeling, she would still be able to, um, _enjoy_ herself as a woman's ability to do so is not lost with the rest of the below waist functions :P Science still has yet to figure out entirely _how_ , but I simply take it as proof that the world meant for a woman to enjoy the act ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
